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THE FEAST OF LAMPS 











An Indian courtyard 


Pictured by 

ROGER A. DUVOISIN 


JUNIOR PRESS BOOKS 

albertXwh itman 

(y 4-co 

CHICAGO 

1938 

c.copH a 



THE FEAST of LAMPS 

A Story of India 


By 

CHARLET ROOT 


?b\ 

Fe 

Copyright, 1938, 

By Albert Whitman & Company 



Lithographed in the U.S.A. 

© C| A 1 2061 4 


SPP 21 1938 





THE FEAST OF LAMPS 


EENAKSHI was a little Hindu girl. She lived 
with her father and mother and her brother, 
Arumukam, in a village in India. 

One morning Meenakshi woke up very early. As 
soon as she opened her eyes she remembered that it was 
her birthday. She was six years old today, and she was 
going with her family to visit the Temple in the big city 
of Madura. They were going to see the Feast of Lamps. 


[ 9 ] 






This was a feast that was held every year in the Temple, 
on this same day, in honor of the goddess Meenakshi. 
Little Meenakshi herself had been named after this 
goddess. 

In India, when a little girl is born on the feast day 
of a goddess, she is often given that goddess’s name, just 
as little girls in other countries are sometimes named 
after saints. This was what had happened when Meenak¬ 
shi was born. 

It made Meenakshi feel very important now to re¬ 
member that she had the very same name, and the very 
same feast day, as the great goddess whose statue she 
was going to see in the Temple at Madura. 

The Feast of Lamps was a very grand affair. Thou¬ 
sands of people from all over the country would be there. 
The journey to Madura would take nearly all day in 
the ox cart. It was a long trip for a little girl of six, but 
Meenakshi felt sure she would not get tired. 

The household was already astir. Out in the yard 
she could hear her father moving about, feeding the 



Mother just poured a pot of water over her 










oxen. She could hear the clinking of brass pots as her 
mother prepared the morning meal. 

She scrambled up from her sleeping mat and ran 
out into the yard for her bath. The bath was a very 
simple one. Mother just poured a pot of water over her. 
The cows and oxen, a donkey and a goat or two who 
also lived in the yard, paid no attention but went on 
eating as though nothing was happening. They had often 
seen little Meenakshi take her bath. 

Dressing was an easy matter, for little Hindu girls 
do not wear many clothes. Over her green blouse 
Meenakshi wore only a long strip of cloth, called a seelai. 
She wore a new one, made just for the feast, and it was 
a bright red. She just wound it around her body like a 
skirt, tucked the end in over her shoulder and she was 
all ready. 

Her mother was making cakes for breakfast. Mee¬ 
nakshi wasn’t very hungry; she was too excited to think 
about eating. Arumukam, her brother, was ten years 
old and had been to Madura before. So he wasn’t nearly 


so excited, and he could eat the good rice cakes, both 
his sister’s share as well as his own. 

“Oh, Amina, is it really today that we go to see the 
goddess Meenakshi?” 

Her mother smiled. 

“Yes, little sister, it really is!” 

Meenakshi’s black hair looked smooth and shiny 
after her mother, or amma —the Hindu word for mother, 
had oiled it. She fastened a bright tinsel ornament at 
the end of her braid. 

Now they were all ready to start. The cart was loaded 
with straw for the oxen, a present for Meenakshi’s uncle 
and aunt who lived in Madura, their own lunch of cooked 
rice and plantains, besides a number of brass pots for 
water. 

Meenakshi wanted to help her mother and ran 
around the cart, first on one side and then on the other. 
A donkey was coming along down the narrow street. 
Meenakshi didn’t see him in time, and bumped right 
against him so hard that it knocked her down. 


[ 13 ] 



The donkey was almost as surprised as she was. He 
waggled one of his long grey ears and waited patiently 
for her to get up. Meenakshi wanted to cry, but she 
didn’t, because the donkey looked so sorry for her. In¬ 
stead she picked herself up and shook the dust off her 
seelai. It was lucky that she had fallen on a dry place. 

1 14 ] 



The donkey was almost as surprised as she was 



The cart stood on big wheels, high from the ground, 
and Meenakshi had to be boosted up into it. Arumukam, 
who was much bigger, climbed up by himself on to the 
pole in front between the two black oxen. He was rather 
proud to be driving, instead of his father. He gave the 
animals a poke with his foot and shouted to them to 
go on. The heavy wheels began to turn with a slow 
creak and crunch. 

Meenakshi was quite content to sit in the straw near 
her father where she could look out in front. All at 
once she saw her two little friends, Janaki and Pushpam, 
waving to her from their own ox cart just ahead. They, 
too, were going to the Feast and they both had on new 
seelais. Janaki’s was blue and Pushpam’s was bright 
green. For a time the two carts kept close together, and 
the little girls could chatter back and forth. 

Although it was early the road was already crowded 
with cattle and sheep and goats, all going to the fields 
to graze. There were women balancing water pots on 
their heads and men carrying big bales of straw. 


Arumukam had to drive slowly most of the time. 
He had no reins. When he wanted the oxen to go faster, 
he twisted their tails. When he had to turn out for some¬ 
one, then he tickled the oxen on their backbones or 
slapped their hind legs. He made all sorts of queer 
noises, and the oxen seemed to know just what the noises 
meant. 

Many other families were going to the Feast of 
Lamps. Some of them had two-wheeled carts drawn by 
only one ox and others traveled in a small jutka, a car¬ 
riage with a top. This was drawn by a pony that went 
dashing along so fast that riding in it looked most un¬ 
comfortable. Because the streets were so narrow and 
crowded it took a long while to reach the open country. 

On their way Meenakshi passed the village well 
where her mother got water, and the rice fields where 
her father worked every day; and the little temple or 
shrine with the painted horses out in front. 

“You know, tungachee, little sister,” said her moth¬ 
er, “you must be a very good girl and keep tight hold 




of my hand when we get to town. For there will be 
crowds of people all trying to see the god and goddess 
when they come riding out of the Temple in their big 
car. There will be hundreds of other little girls also 
named Meenakshi after the goddess, just as you are. It 
is very easy to get lost in such a big crowd.” 

Meenakshi promised to be good. She sat very quietly 
thinking about the wonderful things she would see, and 
wondering about all those other little girls named 
Meenakshi. 

Pretty soon they reached the big village where she 
often went to market with her mother. It was Fair day, 
and many people were crowding the streets and bazars 
and buying all sorts of things. Meenakshi saw one 
family already starting for home. They had done a lot 
of shopping; each one of them had something that he 
had bought. 

The boy was leading a cow and carrying a little calf 
over his shoulders. The mother had a big bundle of fire¬ 
wood on her head. A small girl beside her had a pot of 


I 



Arumukam had to drive slowly 



oil which she too was trying to carry on her head. But 
she was too young to manage this, so in the end she had 
to carry it under her arm. 

Meenakshi wished she could tell this little girl about 
the time she tried to carry a clay pot of buttermilk on 
her head. She remembered how slippery it had been 
and how she felt it going—going—till at last in spite 
of all she could do the jug fell and broke all to pieces, 
and the buttermilk splashed all over her nice clean 
seelai. 

At the Fair everyone got out of his cart to look 
about. Meenakshi saw stalls with all kinds of fruits— 
mangos, pawpaws, fresh figs, cocoanuts, and many more. 
Which did she want, limes or tangerines? She liked 
them both. In the end her father bought a cocoanut, 
and after they all had a drink of the sweet milk inside 
he broke the hard shell open and gave them each a 
piece of the nut. 

Meenakshi liked best the booths where ornaments 
were sold. She wanted some glass bracelets particu- 


[ 20 ] 


larly. They hung in big bunches of all colors, dark red, 
every shade of green, pink and blue. Some were just 
plain glass but many had little gold spots on them. 

“Amnia, please let me buy some bracelets,” she 
begged. “Mine are nearly all broken.” 

“You may buy some,” said her mother. 

It took quite a long time for Meenakshi to decide 
which color she liked best. At last she chose a blue set 
with gold spots. 

“I will put them on for you,” said the shopkeeper. 
He was a fat, jolly looking man who wore a large red 
turban on his head. 

The bracelets didn’t look big enough to go over 
Meenakshi’s brown hand, but the man knew how to 
put them on for her. He told her to sit down on a mat 
and then he squatted down in front of her. “Hold out 
your hand,” he said. 

Meenakshi felt suddenly frightened. “Will it hurt 
much?” she asked. She thought perhaps she had bet¬ 
ter get a toy instead of the bracelets. 


The shopkeeper laughed. “It won’t hurt much,” 
he said, “and the bracelets are worth it.” 

Meenakshi held out her small hand. When he be¬ 
gan closing the bracelets she cried, “Ouch, ouch!” But 
it really didn’t hurt at all. 

“There you are,” said the man, and sure enough, 
the bracelets were all on her wrist, and couldn’t fall off 
again unless she played too hard and broke them. 

Arumukam stood looking on with a superior air. He 
didn’t care much for these fancy-ware stalls. What he 
liked to look at were the cattle. Nevertheless he bought 
a tin whistle and ran off to show it to his father. 

Meenakshi joined her two little friends and they 
visited the flower stalls, where Pushpam bought a gar¬ 
land of yellow marigolds. She slipped it over her head 
and wore it all day. Janaki liked toys best, and she 
bought a red and white pinwheel. It spun around in the 
wind and made a pleasant whirring sound. 

There were so many people, and Meenakshi was 
pushed about so much that it was hard to keep hold of 


[ 22 ] 





The shopkeeper laughed. “It won't hurt much,” he said 


HHMi 






her mother’s hand. So she was glad when she was 
lifted into the cart again, and the family set off on their 
way. 

Presently the sun grew very hot, so they stopped 
under a big banyan tree to rest. This one tree was really 
like a whole grove of trees together, for wherever the 
branches had bent over and touched the ground they 
made new trees growing all by themselves. Not much 
sunlight came through the leaves, so it was cool. Here 
they sat on the ground and ate their noon meal. 

Up above in the branches were monkeys eating the 
red banyan berries. Every now and then a berry would 
slip from their paws and fall plop—sometimes right 
on Meenakshi’s head. This made her jump with surprise. 

Mother unpacked the cold rice and the plantains. 
The monkeys wanted some too. They swung on the 
boughs overhead watching their chance to steal a bite. 
One bold fellow with a red face was bound he would 
have Meenakshi’s plantain. Quick as a flash he swung 
down by his tail and snatched it out of her hand just as 


she was opening her mouth to eat it. Next moment the 
thief was up over her head again, gobbling away ex¬ 
actly as if the plantain belonged to him. 

“Aiyo, aiyo, he’s got my plantain!” Meenakshi 
screamed. 

“Never mind, here’s another,” said her mother. 
“But this time be careful.” 

“I’ll keep him off,” cried Arumukam, clapping his 
hands to scare the monkey away. 

“I suppose he was hungry, but he shan’t have this 
one,” said Meenakshi, and she crammed it into her 
mouth as fast as she could. 

After lunch everyone lay down to rest in the shade. 
Meenakshi and her two friends tried to take a nap 
like the others, but they were too wide awake. So they 
jumped up to try and find something to do. 

“What’s going on over there by those cocoanut 
trees?” asked Pushpam. 

“I see a lot of blue and red and yellow,” said 
Meenakshi, “and I hear music too.” 



So they ran across the field 



“Mother wouldn’t mind if we just went over there 
and came right back,” said Janaki. 


“Hadn’t we better ask first?” Meenakshi said. 

“No, come along,” cried Janaki. “We’ll stay only 
a minute.” 

So they ran across the field and found a crowd of 
people. They were all dressed in bright colors. Some 
of them were jingling tambourines, others were tap¬ 
ping drums with their fingers, while in the center were 
two women dancing to the music. 


[ 27 ] 



“Who are they?” asked Meenakshi. 

“I know,” said Pushpam. “They’re gypsies. Let’s 
go nearer.” 

“Aren’t you scared?” whispered Meenakshi. 

“I’m not,” said Janaki. “Come on.” 

So they watched the dancing. They saw a gypsy 
woman with a baby on her hip. The baby wore a 
square orange cap with long green tassels at each 
corner. 

“Oh, what a darling baby!” cried Meenakshi. 

“I’d rather look at the baby monkeys over there,” 
said Pushpam. “I’d love to play with them.” She moved 
up closer as she spoke. 

“Look out, don’t get too near,” said a man, pulling 
her back. 

“Will they hurt us?” 

“The mother might bite if you touched them.” 

“Yes,” said Meenakshi. “I know about that,” and 
she told them how once an old hen flew onto her head 
when she picked up one of her baby chicks. 


[ 28 ] 


“But monkeys have more sense than hens,” said 
Pushpam, “I’m not afraid of her!” And she moved for¬ 
ward a little. 

Just then the mother monkey began to swing down 
from the tree. Perhaps she heard what Pushpam 
said, for she showed her sharp teeth and she did not 
look at all friendly. So Pushpam decided to keep 
away. 

“Oh dear, I wish we had something to feed them.” 
They all spoke out loud together. “What can we give 
them?” 

A fat gypsy woman heard the little girls, and came 
over to them. She had a large flat basket on her head. 
She set it down and said, “O-ho, here’s what you want. 
Have you any money?” 

Meenakshi pulled out a small coin from the corner 
of her seelai. She had been saving it to spend at the 
Temple booths. 

“Then you can buy some of these cakes to feed the 
monkeys.” 


[29 ] 


“I know what I want,” cried Pushpam reaching out 
her hand. But Janaki pulled her back. 

“It’s Meenakshi’s money. She ought to choose first.” 

“And hurry up about it too,” cried Pushpam. 

“But I don’t know which kind I like best.” 

“They’re all good,” said the gypsy, smiling. 

“I think it’s this one,” said Meenakshi at last, pick¬ 
ing out a jellaby —a jelly cake with syrup inside of it.” 

“Now it’s your turn, Pushpam.” 

Pushpam chose a bright pink sugar candy and Jan¬ 
aki a round cocoanut cake. 

“Now let’s feed the monkeys,” said Meenakshi. 

“I want to eat mine myself,” Pushpam said. 

“I know,” said Janaki. “Let’s divide the jellaby 
and the candy, and feed the cocoanut cake to the 
monkeys.” So very carefully, because she was the old¬ 
est, Janaki divided them. 

“Don’t go too near,” said the man. “Put the pieces 
on the ground and they’ll get them.” 

The little monkeys were not a bit afraid and came 


[ 30 ] 



7 think it’s this one,” said Meenakshi at last 



swinging down to help themselves. The mother monkey 
came too, and snatched a big piece for herself. 

“She looks cross still,” said Meenakshi, getting hold 
of Janaki’s hand. “I’m not going any nearer.” 

“Who’s afraid!” cried Pushpam. “Pm going to 
stroke that baby one just once.” She reached out her 
hand, and quick as a flash the old monkey bit it. 

“ Aiyo , aiyo” Pushpam screamed, the tears rolling 
down her face. 

“What did I tell you,” said the man. “Now run 
back to your mothers, all of you!” 

Meenakshi ran so fast she was all out of breath and 
Janaki tried to pull Pushpam along. She was still 
screaming, “ Aiyo , aiyo.” 

Her screams woke everybody up and they all talked 
at once while Pushpam’s mother bandaged her hand. 
It was only a little bite, but Pushpam cried at the top of 
her voice. 

“It’s time to be going,” said Meenakshi’s father, 
pointing to the sun. So everyone climbed into the carts 


[ 32 ] 


again, and they were soon on the way toward Madura. 

Meenakshi sat cross-legged on the straw in the cor¬ 
ner of the cart. She slipped her new bracelets up and 
down her arm, and listened to their pleasant jingle. 
She played with some banyan tree berries which she 
had picked up. Presently she began to feel tired and 
sleepy. She didn’t care any more about the bracelets 
or the berries. The noises around seemed to be a long, 
long way off. 

Her eyes kept shutting and when she opened them 
everything looked blurred. The berries slipped from her 
fingers one by one and rolled away. The bracelets 
couldn’t get away or they might have gone too. In a 
few minutes she was asleep and had forgotten about 
everything. 

“Wake up, Meenakshi, wake up!” Arumukam was 
pulling her arm. 

“What is it?” she cried sitting up in a daze. 

“Wake up, we’re here!” 

It didn’t take Meenakshi long to get wide awake. 


[ 33 ] 



She jumped down from the cart and took tight hold 
of her mother’s hand as they pushed through the crowd. 


[ 34 ] 


* 4 . 




Everyone was shouting and jostling one another along 
the narrow street that led to the Temple. 


[ 35 ] 




Meenakshi looked up at the enormous gateway as 
they passed underneath. It had a high tower, covered 
with thousands of carved figures. Inside, the Temple 
seemed bigger still. It was so big it made Meenakshi 
feel very small indeed. It was like a whole city in itself, 
with its corridors leading off in all directions. It had 
many courts with bazars where they sold flowers and 
images and brassware of all kinds. Everywhere in¬ 
cense was burning and the smell hung heavy on the air. 

They visited the Golden Lily Tank. This was a large 
square pool with stone steps leading down to it. Many 
people were bathing here in the holy water, and Meen¬ 
akshi and her family went down into the pool too 
and washed their faces and hands. Her mother filled a 
brass pot with the holy water, to take home with them. 

Beyond the Golden Lily Tank they came to the Hall 
of a Thousand Pillars. This was very wonderful. 
Meenakshi stood for a long time looking at the differ¬ 
ent figures carved on the columns. 

Nearby in one of the corridors were parrots and 


[ 36 ] 


cockatoos with bright colored feathers. Someone told 
Meenakshi that these birds could talk, but she couldn’t 
make out a word they said. She was so interested in the 
parrots that for the first time she forgot to keep hold of 
her mother’s hand. 

The parrots kept chattering and squawking, and 
Meenakshi stood listening to them, until all at once she 
looked round for her mother. She was nowhere in 
sight! 

A dreadful lump came up into Meenakshi’s throat. 
She hurried first in one direction and then in another, 
but there were so many people and so many corridors 
it was impossible to go everywhere at once. She was so 
small that she couldn’t look over the heads of the people 
round her. All she could see was just a forest of strange 
legs and feet. None of them looked like her mother’s 
feet, or her father’s or her brother’s. 

The crowd carried her right along. She kept crying 
out “Amnia! Amma /” But no one paid any attention to 
her. She was terribly frightened. She thought: “Sup- 


[ 37 ] 


pose I never find Amma again!” And then that queer 
feeling came into her throat again, and she knew that if 
it didn’t stop she would have to cry. 

Pretty soon she saw an opening through the legs and 
feet and she ran as fast as she could toward it. It was 
quieter here and she said to herself, “Perhaps Amma is 
here looking for me.” But there was no amma. 

Meenakshi ventured a little farther. Suddenly she 
found herself in the open courtyard where the Temple 
elephants were kept. This frightened her still more, 
for she had never been so close to elephants before. She 
started to run away, but just then she saw some children 
throwing coins and she stopped to watch them. She 
wished now that she hadn’t spent her one coin for the 
monkeys. She would like to have thrown it to the baby 
elephant. He was picking up coins with his trunk and 
giving them to his keeper. 

Step by step Meenakshi drew nearer till she could 
almost look up into the baby elephant’s mouth. While 
she stood there watching, the big elephant—perhaps it 


[ 38 ] 



She had never been so close to elephants before 




was the baby elephant’s mother—wound its trunk 
round the keeper and held him high up in the air. 
Meenakshi thought the man would surely be killed. 

“ Aiyo , aiyo , poor man!” she screamed. 

A boy standing near laughed and said, “That’s only 
a trick. Watch him!” 

The keeper walked up the trunk and onto the ele¬ 
phant’s back. Meenakshi laughed. She jumped up and 
down and clapped her hands. “I’d like to do that too!” 
She quite forgot for a minute that she was lost. “What 
big feet he has! I hope he won’t step on anyone.” 

“Elephants don’t step on people unless they mean 
to kill them,” said the boy. “Where are your father and 
mother? Haven’t you any family?” 

This made Meenakshi remember again, and the 
tears began to roll down her cheeks. 

“ Aduy , aday , I’m lost! I’ve looked and looked 
everywhere and I can’t find my mother.” 

The boy tried to comfort her. 

“That’s too bad. But you’ll find her pretty soon. 


[ 40 ] 


She’ll be coming this way. Everybody comes to look at 
the elephants. Here, take this sweet-cake. It’s good. 
Don’t cry any more. I’ve been lost lots of times but I 
always get found again. Nobody stays lost. You’ll see!” 

This comforted Meenakshi. She munched the cake 
and wandered around thinking that if nobody stayed 
lost it could not be long before she found her family. 
Surely they must be beyond that next corner—or the 
next—or the next. But they never were. She began to 
feel very tired and thought she couldn’t go much further, 
but she still walked on. What else could she do? All at 
once she caught sight of her brother, right in front of her. 

“Arumukam, Arumukam,” she screamed, “Arumu¬ 
kam!” She ran as fast as she could to catch up with 
him. He stopped when he heard her and said: 

“Hello, Meenakshi! Where’s the rest of the family?” 

“I don’t know, I’ve lost them,” she cried, as soon 
as she could get her breath. 

“Then we’re both lost! I’ve been trying to find them 
myself for a long time.” 


[41 ] 



“What shall we do?” 

“I don’t know,” said Arumukam. 

“But we have to find them.” 

“Yes, but how?” said her brother gloomily. “This is 
a big place to look for anyone.” 

“A boy back there told me people never stayed lost, 
so perhaps we won’t.” 

“That isn’t much comfort when you’re still lost.” 


[ 42 ] 



“This is a big place to look for anyone.” 


iMui'— rn> inoHiiii,, 








“Oh yes, it is,” said Meenakshi, holding onto his 
hand as if she would never let go. “I’m so glad I found 
you. It’s much nicer to be lost with somebody. Aren’t 
you awfully glad we found each other?” 

Arumukam said that he was, but he still looked 
worried. 

They came out of the Temple into the street. There 
was no use looking for their family in such a mob of 
people, so they decided to go along with the rest. Indeed 
that was all they could do, for everyone was pus hing 
and crowding, trying to get down the street to the head 
of the procession. 

Meenakshi knew why everyone was rushing. Once 
a year the images of the god and goddess were taken out 
of the Temple and given a ride through the streets to a 
big square lake called the Teppakulam. There they were 
put on a raft and taken around the lake three times. 
After this they were carried back to the Temple to stay 
till the next festival. 

“I do wish we could get to the head of the proces- 


[ 44 ] 



sion. I want to see the elephants,” said Arumukam. 

“I want to see the goddess,” said Meenakshi. 

They walked on. There seemed to be no end to the 
long street. At last her brother said, 

“We can’t ever get to the lake through all this 
crowd.” 

Just then a nice thing happened. A jutka, drawn by 
a little pony, stopped right in front of them. Arumukam 
looked at the cart and Meenakshi looked at Arumukam. 
They both had the same idea at the same time. 

“I wish we could ride,” she said. 

“That’s just what I was wishing too.” 

[45 ] 


The man driving the cart must have heard them, for 
he called out, “0-ho, so you’d like to ride. Where’s your 
family?” 

“We’ve lost them,” said Arumukam. 

“That’s too bad,” said the man. “Get in with us. 
We’re going straight up to the head of the procession. 
Help your sister into the cart. She can sit inside with 
my little girl and her mother, and you can climb up here 
in front with me.” 


[46 ] 





“0-ho, so you’d like to ride. Where’s your family?” 







“How can you get ahead of so many people?” asked 
Arumukam, sitting down beside him. 

“I’ll show you,” the man said and turned down a 
side street. “We’ll go clear around and come out in front 
of the procession where we can see everything.” 

Meenakshi felt happy at last. “Now I shall see the 
goddess,” she thought. 

It was good to be riding instead of walking in the 
dust and the crowd. She sat down cross-legged beside the 
girl, who smiled at her shyly. Meenakshi liked her right 
away. She had beautiful long hair, much lo ng er than 
her own, and wore many more bracelets. 

“What’s your name?” asked Meenakshi. 

“Lakshmi. What’s yours?” 

“Meenakshi.” 

“Why, that’s the name of the goddess!” 

“Yes, they named me after her,” Meenakshi said 
proudly. “That’s why Amnia let me come today.” 

“How did you get lost?” asked Lakshmi. 

“I was watching the parrots and I let go of Amma’s 


[48 ] 


hand. My brother says he doesn’t see how we are ever 
going to find her again.” 

Oh, but you’ll have to! You can’t go around like 
this, without any father and mother. Nobody ever does.” 

No, I suppose not. Pushpam and Janaki have a 
mother.” 

“Who are they?” asked the girl. 

“They’re my best friends.” She added quickly: “But 
I like you too. Where do you live?” 

“Right here in Madura. That’s why my father knows 
his way around so well.” 

“Are you hungry?” asked Lakshmi’s mother. 

“A little bit,” said Meenakshi shyly. 

“Your brother must be hungry too. Boys are always 
hungry!” So she gave them each a plantain. 

After quite a while they reached the main road again. 
Here they were ahead of the procession, which was just 
coming in sight. The people began to shout louder than 
ever and the drums and bands made a great noise. 

The three children, and Lakshmi’s parents, all scram- 


bled down from the jutka. It was difficult for them all 
to stay together but Meenakshi kept hold of her brother’s 
hand. Once a big man pushed in between them and she 
fell down. 

Arumukam was close behind her, and helped her up 
again, but by the time they looked around their new 
friends had disappeared. 

The crowd was so big now that they could hardly 
move. Meenakshi was too short to see anything. She 
began to wonder whether she would be able to get even 
a peek at the goddess; and besides it was getting quite 
dark. At last they were pushed clear to the side of the 
street and that was lucky, for Arumukam found a big 
stone with a flat place on top of it where the two children 
could stand and see everything. 

First came the Temple elephant. He was tremendous. 
He towered above everybody. He looked as if he thought 
himself the most important creature in the procession. 
He walked very proudly, lifting his huge legs slowly 
and surely. 


[ 50 ] 



First came the Temple elephant 






On the back of the elephant were rich, golden hang¬ 
ings embroidered at the corners. Around his neck were 
long tassels and gilt balls and his trunk was painted with 
red and white and gold patterns. He kept swinging it 
about as he walked. His ears were painted too, and they 
flapped back and forth. Meenakshi felt sure that he was 
the tallest and biggest elephant in the world. 

“See his bells,” cried Arumukam. 

“What a pretty sound they make!” said Meenakshi. 

“Watch him. See that big brass bell on this side of 
him? Right there.” Arumukam pointed with his finger. 
“Well, when he takes a step it rings. When he takes 
another step the bell on the other side rings. Every 
single step he takes makes a bell ring.” 

And now the crowd pushed and stared more eagerly 
than ever. The god and goddess were coming at last. 
What an enormous car they had! It was made of wood 
and so high that Meenakshi thought that if her house 
and Janaki’s and Pushpam’s were set on top of each 
other, they would hardly reach to the top of it. It was 


[ 52 ] 



covered with flowers and tinsel streamers and flags. The 
wheels were solid and higher than a man’s head. They 
creaked and made a queer noise as they turned. 


The whole car was terribly heavy, and it took a great 
many men, all tugging at the ropes, to drag it along. 
Even then it was all they could do to make the heavy 
wheels turn. Each time the men pulled they bent almost 
double and gave a long singing shout. The crowd joined 
in too. The singing, the shouting, the beating of drums 
and the blaring of bands, made so much noise that 
Meenakshi was almost deafened. 


[ 53 ] 



The images rode inside the car 






The images rode inside the car. There sat the god 
Siva, and beside him his wife the goddess Meenakshi. 
They sat very still and seemed to enjoy being stared at. 
The goddess was covered with jewels and ornaments of 
gold. Her face was turned toward Meenakshi. It was 
almost as if she smiled. 





“Isn’t she beautiful!” Meenakshi cried, “and she’s 
looking right at me! How I wish I could ride with her!” 

Her brother replied: “You’d be scared sitting up so 
high, and besides you could never get up there.” 

The procession moved on toward the lake where the 
raft was waiting. It was dark by now and thousands of 
small oil lamps were burning everywhere. Tiny lamps 
flickered around the edge of the water. They also flickered 
on the island in the center of the lake where there was a 
white temple in the midst of a garden. The temple was 
covered with lights too. There were so many of them 
that Meenakshi thought that there couldn’t be a light 
anywhere in the world that wasn’t to be seen there that 
night. 

“Oh isn’t it lovely!” she whispered. 

They were both too excited to worry about being 
lost now. 

“I’d like to ride on the raft, wouldn’t you?” said 
Meenakshi. 

“I wonder—” said Arumukam. He was thinking. 


“It seems as if I ought to ride with the goddess be¬ 
cause we both have the same name,” said Meenakshi. 

“Let’s get closer,” said her brother, pulling her by 
the hand. 

“Maybe we could slip onto the raft when nobody’s 
looking,” said Meenakshi. She looked at Arumukam. 
There was a very thoughtful expression on his face, and 
the more thoughtful he looked the more she felt sure that 
he would manage somehow to get her onto the raft so 
that she could ride with the goddess. 

Suddenly her brother was all through thinking. He 
took hold of her arm and dragged her in and out of the 
crowd till they stood quite near the raft. A high platform 
had been built on top of it where the priests were going 
to sit. The sides were draped with garlands and paper 
streamers of all colors. There were lots of flags, too, 
and a wonderful throne for the god and goddess all 
draped with flowers and streamers. 

“We’ll try to get under that platform,” said Arumu¬ 
kam. 


[ 57 ] 



“Where?” she whispered. 

“Right down there. Come, I’ll show you.” He pulled 
her after him down the steps that led to the raft. The 
drums and bands, were making a terrible noise and men 
were blowing queer-looking trumpets. 

Now the priests were carrying the images of the god 
and goddess down the steps. Meenakshi was so near that 
she could see how lovely the goddess really was. The 
goddess was still looking straight at her and smiling. 
It was just as if she wanted Meenakshi to ride on the 
raft too. 


[ 58 ] 




The temple was covered with lights 


“See that big dark place in there?” said Arumukam. 

Meenakshi peeked in between the paper streamers. 

“Well, we’ll get in there,” Arumukan continued, 
“while everybody’s watching the priests. You wait till 
I say ‘now’ and then we’ll jump.” 

“Oh!” breathed Meenakshi. 

It seemed like a long time before Arumukam gave 
the signal, though it was only a few seconds. Suddenly 
a great shout went up as the priests put the idols on 
the raft. 

“Now,” whispered Arumukam. 

Quick as a flash they both dived under the platform 
like two little squirrels. 

It was dark under there but they could peep out and 
see everything without being seen. 

Soon the raft began to move slowly around the big 
lake. The lights reflected in the water looked prettier 
than ever, dancing and flickering on the ripples. The 
full moon, too, was just rising. And now the fireworks 
began. Meenakshi had never seen rockets before, and 


[ 60 ] 


she caught her breath as they hissed high in the air and 
burst into red, blue and yellow balls of fire. 

The raft went around the lake three times before it 
stopped at the island. What was going to happen now? 
The two children peeped out. Some priests were coming 
out of the temple with offerings and garlands for the 
gods. They walked slowly and seemed in no hurry. It 
looked as if the raft might stay at the island some time. 

Arumukam whispered, “Let’s crawl out a minute and 
look at the Temple and the garden.” So instead of stay¬ 
ing safely hidden under the platform, they slipped 
through the paper streamers and left the raft to look at 
the flowers and the white Temple. This was a big mis¬ 
take, for when they hurried back to the lake to get on 
the raft again, it had gone off and left them! 

Arumukam was so surprised that for a minute he 
couldn’t speak. Meenakshi thought that now they would 
have to stay on the island forever, with no way to get 
back and no mother to give them their supper. Big tears 
rolled down her cheeks and splashed over her red seelai. 


Her brother tried to comfort her and to be brave in the 
midst of so much trouble. But he was almost ready to 
cry himself. 

“How shall we ever find Amma? I’m tired of being 
lost!” Arumukam was tired of it, too, and began to 
look worried. They wandered around a little but nothing 
seemed interesting any more, not even the lights and 
the rockets. 


[ 62 ] 


Her brother tried to comfort her 



“I’m sleepy, Arumukam,” said Meenakshi. 

“So am I,” he replied, “and I’m hungry besides. 
Aren’t you?” 

“Yes,” she said, “and I want Amma. Aiyo , aiyo, 
what can we do!” 

Just then they saw a priest coming toward them. 
He seemed surprised to see them. They were too tired 
even to run away. 

“Why are you here?” he asked sharply. 

“Please, sir, we came on the raft and it went off and 
left us,” explained Arumukam. 

“The raft? What were you doing on the raft?” His 
face looked very angry. 

“We were riding on it—” began Meenakshi. 

But the priest spoke quickly. “You rode on the 
sacred raft with Lord Siva and the Blessed Meenakshi!” 

“Yes, sir, we did. My name is Meenakshi and I 
thought I ought to ride with her.” She was almost too 
frightened to speak. “She—she looked as if she wanted 
me to!” 


[ 64 ] 



“You did a very, very naughty thing,” the priest said. 
“Where do you live?” 

Arumukam told him. Meenakshi could see that her 
brother was scared, too. 

“What caste are you?” He looked at them with his 
sharp black eyes. Arumukam told him. 

The children were used to this question. They knew 
that everybody in India belonged to a particular caste, 
some high and some low, and that theirs was a respect¬ 
able one. 


[65 ] 



“Well,” said the priest at last, “you were very bad 
children to get on the raft.” He walked back and forth 
on the garden path and looked as if he intended to stay 
cross. On top of everything else this was almost more 
than Meenakshi could bear. For she felt that awful 
things might happen. 

At last the priest stopped in front of them and said: 
“Tell me more about this.” 

“We’re very sorry, sir, we didn’t mean to be bad,” 
said Arumukam. “We’re lost. We can’t find our father 
and mother.” 

“Lost your family? I’ll help you find them in the 
morning. But you’ll have to stay here tonight.” Then 
he looked a little more kindly and asked, “Are you 
hungry?” 

“Yes, we are,” said Arumukam but Meenakshi could 
only cry: “Aiyo, aiyo, I want my Amma.” 

The priest brought them each a bowl of rice and 
curry. He spread a mat for them near the Temple steps 
and told them they might sleep there. 


[ 66 ] 




All the time the priest seemed to be getting kinder 
and kinder, and when he said: “You’d better stop cry¬ 
ing, Meenakshi,” he actually smiled a little, not much, 
but just enough to make her feel happier. So she did 
stop crying. She ate her curry and then snuggled up 
close to her brother and went to sleep. 

It was very strange to wake up on the Temple steps 
the next morning. For a moment Meenakshi rubbed her 
eyes, staring round her in surprise. Then everything 
came back to her. She woke Arumukam. He, too, looked 
very bewildered at first. Then he jumped up and said: 
“Where’s the priest? I hope he won’t forget us.” 

But the priest hadn’t forgotten them. Very soon they 
saw him coming. He was carrying a bowl in his hand. 
He had brought them their breakfast, rice gruel and 
plantains. And this morning he didn’t look a bit cross; 
his wrinkled face was quite friendly as he smiled down 
at them. 

While they were eating he told them stories about 
the Hindu gods. 


[ 68 ] 





“I suppose,” said Arumukam, thinking hard, “that 
there’s a long line of gods, each one higher up than the 
god before.” 

“Who is the top god, sir—away up top?” Meenakshi 
asked. 

The priest did not answer at once. He looked very 
solemn. Then he said: “We have to be very, very good 
for a long time before we can know about the top god.” 

Nobody spoke for a moment, and then Meenakshi 
said: “Tell us just one more story, sir.” 

The priest smiled. 


[69 1 





“I haven’t a single one left,” he said. “And besides, 
it’s time we began to look for your father and mother.” 

Some steps led down the water’s edge, and here a 
little boat was tied. They got in, and the priest took them 
across the lake to the landing place. The sun shone down 
on the water, making little dancing ripples of light as 
the boat moved gently forward. 

Everything looked so different this morning that 
Meenakshi could hardly believe that last night’s adven- 
[ 70 ] 






ture, the raft and the colored fire of the rockets, and her 
strange mysterious ride with the goddess over the dark 
water, was not all a dream. Only she felt sure deep in 
her heart, that somehow the big Meenakshi, her own 
particular goddess, had been taking care of her through 
it all. 

It seemed, too, as though the kind Meenakshi was 
taking care of her still. Surely, surely she must have told 
their parents where to look for them. For as the boat 
neared the shore little Meenakshi saw two figures stand¬ 
ing there, gazing about them, and she gave a loud squeal 
of joy. 

u Amma , Amma. It’s my ammaV ’ 

She ran up the landing steps and into her mother’s 
arms. And while her mother hugged her tight, crying 
with gladness, Father asked them question after ques¬ 
tion, so fast they hardly had time to answer. Where had 
they been? What had happened to them? Everyone was 
so excited that they all tried to talk at once. Suddenly 
Meenakshi remembered the priest. 


[ 72 ] 



So Arumukam and his father went back to the boat, 
and thanked the priest for being so kind. Father gave 
him some money for the temple and the priest rowed 
away. 

Meenakshi almost forgot how frightened she had 
been as she told her mother about the elephants, and 
how the goddess had smiled at her, and about the ride 
on the raft. 


[73 ] 


Then came the long ride home again 



Then came the long ride home again in the ox cart. 
When they reached the village there were Janaki and 
Pushpam waiting to see Meenakshi. So she had to tell 
them the whole story all over again, and they all agreed 
that nothing so wonderful had ever happened to anyone 
before. 

But for a long time afterward Meenakshi never went 
anywhere without keeping very tight hold of her moth¬ 
er’s hand. 

[75 ] 
















































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